Chapter One. It's Just a Jump to the Left.
Willow’s Magic Portal Machine.
The Third Seattle Slayers Story by Dave Turner.
Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or Stargate SG1. I write these stories for fun not profit. Neither do I own or in anyway claim to have performed the songs (other than in a purely drunken way at the pub); ‘The Time Warp’ from the Rocky Horror Show, or; ‘YMCA’ and ‘In the Navy’ by The Village People. I can’t speak Icelandic either (drunk or sober)!
Crossover: The Buffyverse with Stargate SG1.
Spelling, Punctuation and Grammar: Written in glorious English, English! American idioms are used wherever possible.
Timeline: For the Seattle Slayers this is set a few weeks after the ‘First Seattle Slayers Annual Camp-out’. For Stargate this story is set in that dangerous time warp between Seasons 8 and 9.
Words: Seven chapters of 3000+ words
Warnings: As usual ‘there be lesbians in this story!’ Plus a little death and destruction; I’ve also been critical of monotheistic religions for which I offer no apologies.
Summary: “If we can find a sufficiently powerful energy source we may be able to cause a temporal dent in the space-time Cortina and recreate the same kind of time warp that brought us here in the first place!” Which I think about sums it up!
Chapter One: ‘It’s just a jump to the left’.
Willow had been acting ‘mysteriously’ for two weeks now; she would lock herself in the basement for hours on end. When she came up for air she wouldn’t tell anyone what she’d been doing; no matter how much Kennedy tickled her. She would only say it was a ‘surprise’ and that what she was making would be ‘really useful’ and ‘nifty’; and everyone was going to be ‘really impressed’.
The trainee slayers had all attempted to sneak down to the basement but all their efforts had been foiled by the spells Willow had used to secure her workroom. They and Kennedy were reduced to watching as Willow dragged in pieces of electric motors, lengths of metal tubing, and what looked like the insides of numerous old TV and radio sets complete with valves and capacitors. One memorable evening Willow had requested help bringing in a small welding kit; but still she wouldn’t let anyone down into the basement.
Then one lunchtime, when Kennedy came home from work (she was now worked mornings at a Seattle college library), she discovered Willow waiting excitedly for her in the kitchen. Willow was almost jumping up and down in excitement as she waited for her partner to take off her jacket.
“Come-on! Come-on!” she cried excitedly, “It’s so finished and its soooo cool!”
Kennedy smiled trying to hide her own excitement at finally finding out what Willow was up to, she was led downstairs into Willow’s subterranean workshop.
“THERE!” Willow proudly pointed to an assemblage of mismatched electrical parts suspended in a round metal flame at one end of the basement.
Kennedy eyed the heavy duty electrical cable that snaked from the machine to the fuse boxes on the basement wall. The frame was about nine feet high, which meant it reached from floor to ceiling. It was made from pieces of straight scaffolding pipe, so it was in fact a ten sided polygon rather than a true circle. At equal points around the frame there were several large electromagnets, Kennedy counted nine of them. There was a metal rail that ran around the inside of the frame this too had a electromagnet fixed to it, but this one looked as if it was supposed run around the inside of the frame.
A multitude of lesser cables ran to another frame that held shelves with large numbers of valves and capacitors wired into them. Finally a tangle of multi-coloured wires led from the shelves to a laptop computer. The computer’s screen showed lines of numbers and letters which meant nothing to her. Kennedy looked from the machine to her beaming girlfriend; Willow was obviously very proud of whatever it was that she’d achieved.
“It’s…umm…very…nice Willow,” Kennedy nodded her head slowly, “I never knew you could weld or do all this electrical…stuff,” she waved her hand towards the machine and all its wires.
“I looked it up on the internet,” Willow replied gleefully, “its great, isn’t it?”
Looking at Willow, Kennedy realised that if her girlfriend grinned any harder her head would be in danger of falling off; finally she asked the sixty-four thousand dollar question.
“Okay Willow, what is it?”
“It’s the ‘Willow Rosenberg Computerised Electro-Mechanical Magic Portal Machine!” There was a silent ‘Ta-Da!’ at the end of Willow’s sentence; unfortunately Kennedy wasn’t really any the wiser.
“And it does…?”
“It opens magic portals so we can travel instantly from one place to another,” Willow walked over to the machine and stroked the frame lovingly. “Look,” she began to explain, “I’ve always felt bad about Xander not getting to see Tara so much, I mean she’s his daughter too and he hardly gets to see her; and those teleportation spells always take so long to do, what with all the chanting and mystical symbols and I never feel quite right again for hours afterwards, and then there’s the airfares and the ozone layer and all the hanging around in airports; with this we can just dial-up anywhere we want to go, step through the ring and…presto we’re there!”
“So, it’s a teleportation thing like on Star Trek?” Kennedy raised an eyebrow quizzically.
“Basically…yes!” Willow smiled broadly, “With a little magic thrown in to make it all work.”
Kennedy followed Willow’s eyes and for the first time noticed the large pentagram painted on the floor.
“Safety feature,” Willow clarified.
“Uh-huh,” was all Kennedy could think of to say.
“So, do you want to go somewhere?” Willow asked excitedly.
“Maybe…just how much did this cost?” visions of unpaid bills entered Kennedy’s mind.
“Not a lot, I got everything second-hand or military surplus,” Willow looked very smug, “do you wan’na go to Cleveland?”
“I…?” Kennedy hesitated not willing to commit herself to anything just yet.
“It won’t take long, we can go then come straight back only take a second,” Willow was almost bubbling over with enthusiasm.
Kennedy stood in thought for a moment as she looked at Willow; she looked so enthusiastic and excited, the way she almost bounced up and down with that big smile on her face; it was times like this that Kennedy would do anything Willow wanted.
“Okay,” Kennedy was rewarded by Willow giving her an excited hug, “is it safe?”
“Yes! Yes!” Willow stepped away from Kennedy and starting to switch switches, “I’ve tested it and everything!”
The machine started to hum as it built up a charge in its capacitors. Willow made some adjustments to dials and levers, slowly the magnet on the rail began to move, as the machine drew more power. The magnet within the machine started to move faster and faster.
“Right,” Willow explained, “all we have to do is type in the address of where we want to go. Let’s say the courtyard of the school in Cleveland; I’ve given everything a code so as to make dialling in addresses easier.”
Willow walked over to the computer and started to type; “P3X249, that’s the address for the school. Now we just wait for the machine to automatically discharge its stored energy,” Willow took Kennedy’s hand and led her over to stand in front of the machine.
“When the field forms,” Willow yelled over the sound of the machine as it spun and hissed and sparked, “we just walk through, see that we’re there; then we’ll come straight back…okay?”
Kennedy nodded her head ‘Yes’.
There was a terrific ‘CRACK’ a flash and a smell of ozone; Kennedy looked away for an instant then when she turned back something that looked like a pool of water had formed within the frame. Willow squeezed Kennedy’s hand and they stepped forward together, they entered the ‘field’ and vanished.
Paradise, 933 SR.
The steam powered field car bounced and chuffed along the rough track as it made its way deeper into the foothills of the Black Mountains. District Commissioner Allen turned to his passenger.
“I’m afraid it’ll be a few more years until we get all the roads properly surfaced,” he almost had to shout over the noise of the engine.
“I thought ‘Little-Tree’s Kraal’ was one of your special projects?” Daniel Jackson held on for dear life as the car bounced over several major ruts in the road.
“Oh! It is,” Allen held on grimly to the steering wheel, “It’s just that we don’t have enough construction crews to get everything done as quickly as we’d like.”
Two weeks previously SG 1 had come through the Stargate and found themselves on a planet known to its many peoples as ‘Paradise’. The Stargate was being heavily fortified to prevent any evil doers from gaining access to the planet. There had been a tricky few minutes as Daniel tried to explain that they were peaceful explorers and were not bent on planetary conquest.
The Stargate was situated on an island controlled by a country calling itself ‘The United Kingdoms’ or more usually just ‘The Kingdoms’. The government appeared to be democratic and friendly, technology looked to be equivalent to Earth’s 1930’s. The only fly in the ointment was that The Kingdoms was in a state of continual low level war with a country referred to as ‘The Republic’.
The Kingdoms’ government had been aware of the Stargate’s existence for just over three years; and had assumed that it was just an interesting archaeological artefact. The Kingdoms’ scientists had only recently concluded, after studying ancient legends, that the Stargate was a method of interstellar travel. The fortifications were still being built when SG 1 had arrived.
Colonel Carter was at this very moment explaining about the Stargate system and its use to a Scientific Convention being held on The Kingdoms’ home islands. Daniel found himself tracking down rumours of a second Stargate in a small nation allied to The Kingdoms known as umBongoland. The District Commissioner was taking Daniel to speak to a local head-woman who, it was said, had once found an artefact that fitted the general description of the Stargate many years before.
After another fifteen minutes of bouncing over the unpaved track Allen brought the car to a halt in the centre of a village. The kraal contained about thirty round huts. Each was approximately twenty feet across with whitewashed walls and a thatched roof. Smoke trailed from neat holes cut in the centre of the roofs of many of the dwellings. There were a few rectangular buildings that the Commissioner explained were the school, communal bathhouse, police station and the new medical centre.
The villagers appeared mostly to be of African decent mainly from the Bantu family of tribes. There were also a few white villagers and some of mixed race. Daniel commented that there didn’t seem to be many men about. Allen explained that most of the men worked in the local mines that produced the coal and iron ore which gave umBongoland much of her wealth; they only came home at the weekends; as a result the women generally ran the villages. The villagers looked happy, well fed and dressed in brightly coloured clothes, Daniel couldn’t help feeling that it all looked too good to be true, or maybe he was just getting paranoid in his old age.
“This is Little-Tree’s hut,” Allen pointed as they approached a large oblong hut. “Little Tree must be in her eighties and she’s getting very frail. It might be better if we waited for her wife to return from hunting. She’s only a few years younger than Little Tree but she doesn’t look it and she’s still very robust.”
“Is it normal for women to form relationships in umBongon society?” Daniel wondered.
Allen gave him a sidelong glance.
“Sometimes, why not?” he asked, “I was told you came from a free and open society. You almost sounded like you come from one of those places where they object to people loving each other just because they’re the same sex.”
“No!” Daniel shook his head emphatically, “It’s just that we’ve found it a little unusual in tribal societies for people to form same-sex relationships.”
“Ah! I see,” Allen nodded his head; they had reached the door of the head woman’s hut where a middle aged village woman sat keeping guard.
“Good afternoon mother,” Allen nodded politely to the woman, “I’ve brought an important visitor from far away to see Mother Little-Tree.”
The woman looked the Commissioner up and down.
“Yes we’ve been expecting him,” she glanced at Daniel, “I will see if Mother Little-Tree can see you now,” she stood up and disappeared into the hut.
Daniel looked at Allen, “She knew I was coming?”
“Yes,” Allen slapped an insect that had bitten his neck, “in all likelihood we’ve been watched since before we got to the village; and then there’s the ‘bush telegraph’…and the new telephone system. Plus…” Allen hesitated for a moment, “I don’t know how much credence you put by it but they do say that Little-Tree was something of a witch in her day.”
“Yes,” Allen replied nonchalantly, “magic works…we’re only just beginning to understand how it works scientifically. Do you have Witches on your world?”
Before Daniel could say anything the village woman stuck her head out of the hut doorway.
“Mother Little-Tree will see you now,” Allen and Daniel stepped forward but the woman put her hand on Allen’s chest, “just the off-worlder Commissioner.”
With a backward glance at Allen, Daniel ducked into the hut.
It was cool and dark inside the hut after the heat and bright sunlight outside. Illumination came from an open back door which led out to a covered work area behind the hut. As Daniel’s eyes got used to the dim interior he took in the details of the hut’s furnishings.
The floor was covered in reed mats, while piled against the walls lay boxes and bundles. The walls were hung with cooking pots, spears, animal horns and skins. There were bunches of herbs, dried flowers and leaves. At the far end of the hut in the furthest corner there was an old iron bed frame covered in skins. On the bed sat an indistinct figure wrapped in a blanket.
“Come closer Danieljackson,” came a voice that bespoke of great age.
“Hello,” Daniel advanced slowly on the figure in the bed, “I’ve come from far away to ask if you know where I might find a great stone circle which…”
“I know you Danieljackson,” the voice spoke again, it took Daniel a minute to realised the it had spoken to him in English.
“Sit on the edge of my bed,” the old woman commanded.
“You’re Mother Little-Tree aren’t you?” Daniel peered into the half light.
“Yes,” agreed the old woman, “but I wasn’t always called that. Look into my eyes Daniel.”
Daniel leant forward as the old woman leant towards him, he saw the woman clearly for the first time. She was ancient with skin the colour of leather, her long white hair hung down around her thin shoulders: when she smiled Daniel saw she was missing most of her teeth and the few that were left were a strong yellow colour. But her eyes…her eyes were the greenest green he had ever seen, they sparkled with amusement and wisdom; she was so familiar…
“Danieljackson! What the hell took you so long!?!?” the woman yelled and whacked him on the side of the head with the flat of her hand.
“Who…?” spluttered Daniel shocked at the sudden attack.
“Sixty bloody years Kennedy and I have been stuck here waiting for someone from Earth to come along,” The ‘frail’ old woman hit Daniel on the other side of his head with a walking stick that had been concealed among the blankets, “and then when you do turn up you don’t recognise me!”
“OWW!” Daniel clutched at his head, “Stop hitting me! Do I know you?” he demanded foolishly.
“Darn straight you do! Look at me you-you silly archaeologist you!”
Daniel looked closely at the old woman, “Oh-my-god!” he gasped, “Willow Rosenberg!”
“Darn tootin’!” Willow nodded her head sharply.
umBongoland, 873 SR.
Two-Bulls sat in the shade of a plain-tree as he slowly sharpened his assegai. Twenty paces in front of him, out in the hot afternoon sun, danced a woman in her early twenties. Sweat glistened on her ebony skin as she beat out a slow rhythm with the butt of her spear on her hide shield. Little puffs of dust rose around her each time she stamped her foot. Every now and then she would jump into the air which set her breasts bouncing and her beads and bracelets rattling. Sighing wistfully Two Bulls looked up as he heard someone approach.
“What’s going on?” his friend Angry sat down next to him.
“Nothing much,” he replied, “Misty’s just dancing again…its times like this I miss my wife.”
Angry nodded his head in agreement; he took off a leather satchel that he wore over his right shoulder.
“Give me your pistols, I’ll give the locks a once over while I’m here,” he offered.
Two-Bulls handed the weapons over, “They’re not loaded.”
His friend got out his tools and started to take the flintlocks apart.
“We’ll need to go hunting tomorrow,” Two Bulls announced matter-of-factly.
“Might as well while we’re by the river,” agreed his friend with a nod.
The two men talked about inconsequential things as they worked on their weapons and watched Misty dance.
Eventually the young woman stopped dancing and walked over to where the men sat.
“Water?” she asked holding out her hand.
Angry threw her an old whiskey bottle half filled with water. It was held in a carrier made of leather straps. The woman drank thirstily. She stood in front of the two men shield and assegai in one hand water bottle in the other.
“So, what were you two so deep in discussion about?”
Angry looked up from the pistol he was carefully putting back together.
“I was just saying to my old comrade here,” he gestured to Two-Bulls, “that in the event of you ever finding a husband worthy of your talents…”
“…And who appreciates your more outstanding points,” added Two-Bulls waving vaguely at Misty’s breasts.
“…we will miss your sparkling company,” Angry grinned.
“Arseholes!” Misty smiled showing strong white teeth, “Where are Olla and Tanna?”
“They heard a carnivore so they went off to shoot it,” Two-Bulls replied with a shrug.
“Damn!” Misty stamped her foot raising a little swirl of dust, “I was going to go for a swim and I wanted one of them to stand guard for me, I don’t suppose one of you…?”
“I’ll do it,” Angry volunteered and stood up “I wouldn’t want you eaten by the Water-Lizards. I’ll get my weapons and meet you down by the river,” he handed Two Bulls his pistols, “They’re in good order,” he announced, and then turned to follow Misty down to the river.
Kennedy stood and took in her surroundings; there were thickets of stunted trees and thorn bushes as far as her eye could see. In between the thickets clumps of dry yellow grass grew in the sandy soil, everywhere looked dusty. On the horizon she could just make out a range of high mountains through the heat haze.
“Ummm Willow?” she called hesitantly, “Unless global warming has got really bad, really quickly I don’t think this is Cleveland,” there was no answer, “Willow?”
Willow was rushing backwards and forwards across the clearing, her hands stretched out in front of her as if she was trying to find something by touch alone; as she ran she muttered to herself urgently.
“Oh-no! Oh-no! Oh-no!” the look on Willow’s face was enough to send a shiver of fear down Kennedy’s spine.
“What’s wrong Will?” she walked towards the frightened witch.
Willow looked at Kennedy with an expression close to terror on her face.
“It’s gone Ken!” she cried in panic, “The portals gone!”
Kennedy rushed over to Willow and caught hold of her and held her by the arms.
“What do you mean, ‘the portals gone’?” she asked a little too sharply.
“It’s gone!” Willow cried again, the sound of hysteria rising in her voice.
Kennedy pulled Willow into her arms and held her tight.
“Breath Will, breath,” she soothed, “now take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong.”
“The portal Ken!” gasped Willow.
“Yes honey,” Kennedy nodded her head, “the portal, what about it?”
“I…I thought it was two-way…then maybe it was? Maybe something went wrong at home…its gone Ken! We’re stuck here…wherever here is…I’m so sorry,” Willow started to sob, “I got us lost…I’m a bad, bad witch!”
“Sssh honey, we’ll get home,” Kennedy whispered into the weeping witch’s hair, “remember; slayer…mega-witch, right? There’s nothing we can’t do.”
Even as she said it Kennedy didn’t really believe it, she felt herself tittering on the edge of panic herself, but she couldn’t allow herself that luxury. Sometimes being strong for the person you loved was the only way of holding yourself together.
Olla and Tanna moved around the thorn clumps holding their rifles at the ready.
“Are you sure it came this way?” asked Tanna the brown haired warrior woman.
“You saw the tracks,” whispered her blonde companion, “what do you think?”
Suddenly both women came to a halt and pulled back the hammers of the rifles.
“Did you hear that?” Olla cocked her head to one side.
“Sounds like voices,” Tanna nodded and pointed into the bush.
Olla nodded her head in agreement; the two warriors moved stealthily on.
“Deep breaths,” coached Kennedy as Willow slowly regained control of herself.
“What are we going to do Kennedy?”
“Survive Will…it’s what we do best,” Kennedy voice just oozed false confidence, “let’s go this way,” she pointed in a direction that looked no different from any other.
The two women hadn’t gone more than a few paces when Kennedy’s spider sense started to tingle. She turned and looked around and saw two figures appear from behind a clump of bushes.
“That redhead’s going to really burn in this sun,” Olla announced sagely as the two warrior women advanced on the Outlander women who were standing no more than twenty paces away.
“They must be lost,” Tanna glanced at her friend, “look; they haven’t even got a water skin…wonder where they came from.”
Willow and Kennedy watched as the two women came from behind a bush and advanced slowly towards them. The warrior women both carried rifles which they kept pointing at the ground in an attempt to look less threatening. Both women wore shorts that came down to just above their knees. These were held up by white leather belts fastened with big brass buckles.
From each of their belts hung pouches and long knives and on their arms they wore silver and gold bracelets, around their necks they wore necklaces of beads, teeth and claws, as they moved the sunlight would flash from gold and silver coins woven in amongst the beads and animal parts. To top off their outfits the blonde woman wore a wide brimmed brown felt hat. The brunette just wore a red bandana to keep her hair from falling into her eyes. They stopped when they were about four paces from where Willow and Kennedy stood.
“Heavy on the ethnic jewellery,” observed Willow.
“Not so heavy on the clothes,” Kennedy’s eyes strayed to the blonde woman’s breasts.
Willow glanced at her girlfriend.
“Stop starring at her boobs,” warned Willow, “they might take offence.”
“You got to admit Willow, that’s quite a pair,” Kennedy, dragged her eyes away from the blonde’s breasts and glanced Willow.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” demanded Willow placing her fists on her hips, “you’ve always preferred girls with big boobs!” Willow looked down at her own chest, “Waving those things about; if I wasn’t the confident well adjusted woman that I am I…I…well I might well feel inadequate!”
She crossed her arms defensively over her chest.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Tanna asked her friend.
“I think they’re arguing,” Olla studied the strangely clothed women.
“…no Willow, I think your breasts are just perfect, just the right size…” Kennedy’s voice petered out
Willow took a deep breath, “Sorry I shouldn’t make a fuss and start to babble on about silly things when we should be…”
“Hello!” said Olla.
“Hello?” Willow replied.
“Any idea what she said?” Tanna scratched her head.
“Might have been ‘Hello’,” Olla shrugged her shoulders.
“I think that might have been ‘Hello’,” Kennedy replied to Willow’s unasked question.
Willow looked around on the ground.
“Quick find me two pebbles or something!”
Kennedy kicked about in the sand.
“These do?” she held out two small rounded stones.
“Great!” Willow grabbed the pebbles and held them tightly in her hands; bringing them up to her mouth she muttered a short incantation.
“There, that should help,” she passed a stone to Kennedy.
Olla pointed at Willow, “Witch?”
Note: Assegai. A spear, two to three feet in length. The blade is usually 12 inches long and two to three inches at it’s widest, it then tapers down to a rounded point. It is used in conjunction with a large oval hide shield and is thrust underhand into an opponent’s belly, much in the way of a Roman short sword. Favoured weapon of the Zulu Impis in the mid to late 19th century.